


Betrayal is on Friday

by zimungard



Category: UNIQ (Band), UP10TION, X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Feelings Realization, M/M, Organized Crime, Strangers to Lovers, a lot of silly word-fights, mafia's struggles for the power, steampunk era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimungard/pseuds/zimungard
Summary: Never trust the shifting winds, never turn your back on friends. Seungyoun is forced to remember this, when his life gets wrapped in a web of the criminal underworld and its dirty tricks.He visits an unknown town, and there — his future is falling into the arms of treachery.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Kim Wooseok | Wooshin
Kudos: 21
Collections: Different Pools Fic Fest





	Betrayal is on Friday

**Author's Note:**

> the prompt for the ficfest suggested for sy to be a possible mafia member. i decided to take it both ways.
> 
> hope you enjoy <3

**Sunday**

Seungyoun grabs the door handle. He can’t run away from this part of his life, which is always looming on the horizon, waiting for him to fall into its twisted and rotten arms. It’s time to face it. And who knows, maybe this encounter with a vile creature would end in Seungyoun’s survival. Not a win, he couldn’t even dream of it, but at the very least - survival.

The name of this monstrosity - is the criminal underworld. In all its forms and deformities. Here, Seungyoun will meet one of its respectable servants, who got corrupted by the crime since the time long forgotten.

Everything is clogged with cigar smoke. The smell of tobacco seeps into every corner of the room, into its every item: the books on the shelves, maybe even their pages, the expensive carpet, the furniture, into the clothes of everyone in close proximity and into each strand of their hair.

“So,” the person shakes ash from the cigar, almost entirely missing the ashtray. “You accept this, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t,” Seungyoun, who got himself caught up in this discussion, which will later prove to be the start of one catastrophe, shrugs the offer off.

“Well, If you don’t accept, you will be kicked off from the family.”

“Isn’t that what I want?”

“Hm, you know what our clan does with those, who reject its offers? You will pay with your life… we don’t tolerate deserters and betrayers! It’s like a war! In fact, it is one!” the person clenches his fist in a demonstration.

“Mmm, anyway,” noticing that this speech didn’t achieve the desired effect, the person with the cigar continues. “You know, why you gotta do this task, right? The dons of our clan are displeased with your high placement in a hierarchy, which you achieved without doing anything! Yeah, that’s right! Anything! You’re first in line to be the head of our clan after my death and you didn’t do as much as lay a finger on our affairs,” in a distress, caused by these words, the person starts smoking more frantically.

“So, um… can anyone else take this spot? I don’t mind.”

The person’s face turns red for a moment, before he lets out a long sigh. “Don’t you understand!? There’s a blood of the founder of this clan runs through your veins, it’s you family duty for generations to come!” he points the finger into the air, to add the weight to his words.

Although frustrated and annoyed, Seungyoun has no other way than to accept this turn of events, “Well, I don’t have much room to negotiate either way, if the disagreement is death.”

“Very well,” the person nods with a wide smile.

“But I have a condition. No, a wish. And I will ask for it as your brother, not as a mafia pawn.”

“Hm, so what is it?”

“After I finish this - I retire. Simply retire, without punishment for dissecting from the family. Do something, explain to the dons, fake my death, or tell I flew to another country and never returned - anything will do!”

“I see…” Seungyoun’s brother, and simultaneously the current head of the clan, taps his fingers against the table. After the short pause: “Fake death will do… I’ll say it happened during the operation. But don’t ever show anywhere near here again!”

“Sure!”

“Back to the business. Your job, should I say the final one and the first, is pretty simple - you need to eliminate the head of the foe clan.”

“Pretty simple, you say?”

“Yes, nothing out of the ordinary. By performing this operation, the dons of our clan will be very pleased with you and won’t question the authority of our family ever again! And then, by faking your death — you will be perceived as a hero, who sacrificed his life for the greater cause! And our family will again even more reputation with this sob story and then every girl in town will wish to marry into—”

“You said, back to the business,” Seungyoun coughs, cutting the excitement short.

“Right,” the brother finds the new cigar, adding to the collection of smoke in the room. “You’re going to the town, where the foe’s headquarters are. We planted our agent into their troops. He’s been there for as little as five years. Before, he was acting as an informant, so we were always ahead of this forsaken clan in the market! It’s all thanks to him! But now… It’s time to act and deliver the finishing blow!”

With how demonstrative his brother’s speech was, Seungyoun couldn’t quite find the essence of the mission, “So, how do I find him? This agent?” 

“No, you won’t find him. He will find you! Giving you information about the agent’s looks can get us in trouble if the foe’s clan will catch you and get the info out of you,” the brother shakes his head in a dismal. “Next: your alias is Luizy. You’re coming to town tomorrow, but our agent started a rumor that you will come in three days. Also, he delivered some hints about you, which we can now manipulate and do the opposite of them, so the foe won’t recognize you at first. Now, dye your hair, get yourself fake occupation and reason for being in town, buy a ring, because in the hints you’re unmarried, and oh, in the version of our agent - you don’t smoke! So, it’s very convenient you don’t have to stop the habit.”

“But… I do, in fact, not smoke.”

“Then start it! We’re trying to fool an enemy here. Turn your brains on! Ugh, so much trouble, so much trouble,” the brother rumbles, trying to find the placement of the ashtray, hidden somewhere under the pile of ash. “Get out now! And let's never see each other again!”

“Roger that!”

“Lastly,” the brother stops Seungyoun at last second. “The code, which will help you to recognize the agent follows as: “Since when the mafia was the right place for pretty boys?”

“Huh? Isn’t it too specific?”

“Stop complaining! Go now!”

**Monday**

After finishing all the business in his hometown, including dying his hair, although it resulted in just a shade lighter, buying a wedding ring and a pack of cigarettes, which he wouldn’t bother to open at all for the time of his journey. For his fake occupation, Seungyoun decides to play a fool and say he’s traveling on the pretext of being a photographer. For that, he took his personal cameras from home. 

But he doesn’t know that his preparations won’t change the outcome. Furthermore, in the big scheme of things - they’re _insignificant_. Except for one thing - the ring, which will later serve as something more than a blatant fakery for the mission.

Seungyoun arrives in the morning, but wandering around an unknown town proves fruitless in a search of the planted agent. Deciding to take a break, he enters a small bar on a narrow street, ignoring the sign on the door: “ _Monday is for the mafia_.” And Monday it is. 

In this bar, the fated meeting will happen. If Seungyoun would never turn on this street, would things change? A possibility exist. But something tells, that human feelings and their metaphorical magnetic force can overcome time, space and obstacles.

The bar is lit with weak lights, which causes many shadows upon the floor. Someone could perceive this place as warm and cozy, someone - as eery and, in some way, sinister. For Seungyoun, it’s the right amount of isolated and calming, as he is the only customer in this place.

“Are you new here? Never saw you in the town before,” the barkeeper of old age is thoroughly cleaning the glass, sometimes landing a suspicious glance in Seungyoun’s way. 

“Um...yeah, I’m a photographer. I’m here to…” Seungyoun tries to find a reasonable excuse to drop the suspicions, until he notices the poster on the wall.

The colorful painting of a deer, smiling in an unnatural, cartoony way and plagiarizing the style of Bambi, with writing underneath: “ _THE YEARLY DEER FESTIVAL! DON’T MISS! ONLY IN OUR TOWN!_ ”

“ ...I’m here for a festival,” Seungyoun wonders to himself about how preposterous the theme of the festival sounds, but he brushes it aside as some local tradition.

“Oh, you’re a lucky one!” the barkeeper slaps him on the shoulder. “You will see the march! This town is famous for its hunters, especially back in the old days! The giant statue of a deer from papier-mache! And then - tons of food at the banquet. Be sure to capture everything! Click, click,” the man makes a hand gestures, symbolizing the imaginable camera. “For that being, let’s cheer for this! Do you want something stronger than a te— “

The man’s proposition gets cut off. Cut off by nothing else than a bullet, flying straight into the window. Next shot. And one more. 

The damage: three windows, one unfortunate cap, which caught the bullet, and Seungyoun’s mental stress.

“Oh, they’re lively today!” the barkeeper shouts. “Boy, lay down if you don’t want a stray bullet in your head!”

Still dumbfounded, Seungyoun can’t move from his chair. The confusion is enough for him to leave any appropriate reaction from taking place. 

Behind the broken windows, runs the suspect, in whose way the bullets were headed for. He runs into the bar, breathing loud from the chase — the chase from the mafia.

“You’re running off now!? You son of—! Wooseok, get him!” echoes the loud voice from afar. 

Running into the same bar and shutting the door, like a thunder, some mafia pawn enters the scene. Upon finding the suspect, clinging from fear under the table, he points the gun at his prey. The suspect starts pleading, throwing promises such as “ _I’ll never do this again!_ ” and “ _I’ll pay for everything on time_ ”, also “ _One chance, please one chance_.”

The man with a gun, in Seungyoun’s eyes, didn’t fit into this picture. He is too dignified in his stance and features to be involved with the dirtiness of the organized crime. And taking into account, he wasn’t the son of some wealthy don, who will give the muddy job to his puppets, while never putting as much as dust on his clean, protected hands. No, Wooseok is directly involved with scrubbing through that dirt and filth, although still retaining grace in his image.

As much as bewildering the scene is in front of him, Seungyoun is more uncomfortable with the fact that his tea is getting cold, while he has to witness all this useless chaos, which happened to catch him off-guard.

“Ha-ha… What a coward, look at him!” the barkeeper is having the time of his life, bursting in laughter over the spectacle. He seems to not mind the broken windows.

The next stranger shoots into the bar, the sweat is drenching from his face. He fishes off a handkerchief from his pocket and begins erratically wiping his face.

“Huh, good job, Wooseok! Uh, you were fast! And now, scum, I’ll talk to you!” his gaze shifts right to the pleading man.

In one sharp motion, the sweaty man pulls the suspect from the floor, holding his collar with the grip of a dozen men. The suspect’s eyes reveal an expression of horror, anticipating what to come. And some could argue that expecting a blow in your face, while seeing the approaching fist, is one of the worst feelings out there. 

“Who’s late to pay for the loan?! Hey!?”

“Me…” with a voice of chipmunk, the suspect begins the so-called confession.

“Who was trying to run away from the punishment!?”

“Me…”

“Because of who we wasted three bullets!?”

“...”

“I can’t hear you!”

“Because of me!”

“That’s right!” the man throws a punch with power as great as two heavyweight boxers, which results in a suspect finding himself flying to the other side of the room, in hope to keep all of his teeth intact after the landing.

“You will find the money tomorrow, got it? If you can’t handle it, don’t get involved with the mafia!” the man spits on the ground in the ‘demonstration’ of his power. “Now, Wooseok, you are dismissed, go rest a bit. Oh, and sorry for the windows, the clan will cover it up,” the last line was addressed to the barkeeper.

The man exits the bar, in a few seconds - the suspect does the same thing, hiding his broken, from the punch, lip and emitting all sorts of incomprehensible noises from pain.

Seungyoun isn't sure about what he feels for this man, it is nor pity, nor disgust. It is something gray, reminding of indifference. Not for the lack of empathy, but because of the inability to relate to. He thought that being in such dependence on the mafia, from which he himself is constantly running away from, seems like a weakness. But he couldn’t predict that his situation is almost the same as that pleading man had, but on a higher caliber, on a different scene.

Wooseok, as he was called, is focused on the bar’s only customer at this time of the day, who is trying to finish his cold-off tea in frustration.

“Are you a commoner?” Wooseok asks, with a tone of pretense in his voice.

“Um… what’s the problem?” 

“On Monday this bar is for the mafia only.”

“Do I have to care?”

“You should!”

“Chill, just order yourself some booze and back off.”

“Listen, I don’t have time for you,” Wooseok pulls his gun, and in a similar fashion, threats with it again. This time, the victim of the destructive steel is — Seungyoun. Wooseok presses the gun tight against Seungyoun’s temple.

“Woah, you’re an impulsive one,” no matter how much removed from his family’s teachings Seungyoun was, one thing he knew for sure — never lose your cool. The moment the enemy intimidates you, that as well might be your downfall.

“Get out!” Wooseok presses the gun with more force. "If someone other will see you here, you won't get away that easily. Believe me, I'm being nice."

At this moment, a quick thought flashes through Seungyoun's mind. At least, he thinks, it’s worth a try. It seems to fit into the current situation and this sudden encounter.

"Since when the mafia was the right place for pretty boys?" Seungyoun attempts to say an absurd phrase with as much nonchalance as possible. 

"Oof," the barkeeper utters, expecting what may come after such nonsense, which has been said straight to Wooseok’s face.

The suppressed anger reflects directly in Wooseok’s eyes. Which is an indicator of two possibilities: 1) the code worked, but its existence is a direct blow to Wooseok’s pride; 2) the code didn’t work and Wooseok isn’t an agent, but, in the same way, his pride is shaken.

Caught up in emotions, Wooseok attempts to hit the author of offense. His fist gets blocked mid-way by Seungyoun’s palm. 

Or so, Wooseok let himself be blocked, because inside his clenched fist is a note, which he, discreetly from the barkeeper, passed into Seungyoun’s palm.   
Feeling the texture of paper on his skin, more than surprised, Seungyoun is satisfied, because it frees him from the search process for the agent. 

"Oh, sorry, didn’t mean it. My mistake," — is the last thing Seungyoun says to Wooseok on that day, before rapidly exiting the bar.

Wooseok heard a lot about the second son of the main family of the clan — Seungyoun. The one, who never seemed interested in a state of affairs of the mafia and never performed any job in its many aspects, instead just running away from it and trying to make a living with something more peaceful. For Wooseok, who considered the mafia as a part of his life and something as almost as saving grace to him, Seungyoun’s behavior appeared foolish and ungrateful of his position. 

And now, he puts himself in grave danger, not abiding the rules whilst being here. That proved to Wooseok, how clueless and naive Seungyoun is in the criminal underworld. 

"Why did you serve him today?" with a serious gaze, Wooseok asks the important question to the barkeeper, before ordering a cup of coffee. 

"Well, it was a lonely day. Plus, I appreciate how brave… or stupid he was for ignoring the sign."

"He's the latter. Fool, he’s already wasting my nerves," the last sentence was said in a whisper. 

Seungyoun himself considered this encounter as a lucky occurrence, although he was forced to witness a violent scene and be a victim of Wooseok's anger. But at this point, his mission is still far from complete. 

The note says, " _Tomorrow. Deer Festival. Find me in a crowd. Burn after you read_."

**Tuesday**

The great, in the eyes of locals, festival begins! The crowd grows larger with each second, swarming the streets and being excited for the march and, who in the world thought, for the papier-mache figure of a giant deer. This time, Seungyoun isn’t faking his job as a photographer. No, he is genuinely surprised with absurdity around him thus tries to capture everything of interest: troops of people with old shotguns, or rifles, and washed out clothing, who signify the hunters; different breeds of hunting dogs, which help, presumably, in the task of catching deers; old veteran hunters passing the shotguns to their sons as a symbol of succession for the next generation, which something Seungyoun utterly despises in its essence, as he is the one, who rejects the notion of succession through the same blood. 

And finally, the cheap statue of a deer, with the loud cheering from the crowd, enters the march. The parts of it are already coming off. All in all, it’s a distasteful creation, but in a grand excitement of townsfolk — it didn’t even matter.

Busy, crowded, bright and full of confetti. That’s how Seungyoun would describe this event.

In a herd of people, Seungyoun notices the stand-out group — men in suits with serious faces, surrounding the figure in the middle — head of the enemy clan, who is enjoying the festival and is all-smiles on his rather horrendous face.

“Someone, go buy me that thing! Now!” he shouts, observing the large cake for the banquet. “And keep those dirty people away from me! What a hassle, no respect for the real ruler of the town!”

Seungyoun isn’t astonished by such behavior, it seems the normal occurrence for those in power. A crown corrupts a king, they say. 

In a flock of bodyguards, Seungyoun recognizes a familiar figure - no one other, than the beloved agent of his clan. Catching Seungyoun’s gaze, Wooseok separates from the group with caution to not be too obvious with his steps, while using the advantage of a big crowd to hide.

"You aren’t hard to spot with your appearance," Seungyoun decides to get the starting point in a discreet conversation.

"Is that a compliment?"

"Sort of."

"Okay, focus!” Wooseok goes back to the main theme of the meeting. “Look there! This is the head of a clan. Remember him. Remember his face. Look at the guards. Embed every detail about him in your mind, so you won't make a mistake. This is the closest you will ever get to him."

"The closest? Then how do I supposed to shoot him down?"

"Wait, not the time to ask questions.”

In frustration and hurry, Seungyoun takes the initiative. "Can I take a photo of him? It will help point him out later."

"No. Too suspicious if someone notices. Besides, no time to process the pictures."

"Then… can I take a photo of you?"

"Uh… why woul—" the sound of a shutter takes Wooseok by surprise.

With the expression of self-satisfaction on his face, Seungyoun is more than pleased with obtaining such a picture in his roll.

"What is this for?" still in a daze, Wooseok tries to regain his cool.

"It's a deer festival today. It would be a pity not to capture one in front of me."

"Why you…!" the subtle blush appears on Wooseok’s face, when he rushes to counterattack Seungyoun's silly line, but he rather finds himself defeated. "Tomorrow. Horse racing venue. Afternoon race," he says at last while retreating and not allowing Seungyoun to have more time to look in delight at his flustered face. 

At this moment, Wooseok thinks, that Seungyoun is making this mission harder for him. Much harder. And this thought will later have a solid ground. But with hardships comes success, although with fifty-fifty chance. Or in other words: either it comes, or either it does not. 

**Wednesday**

The light of the afternoon sun is falling straight into the center of an open stadium venue. People gather to enjoy the leisure, founded back in the times of ancient Greece, — the horse racing. With the addition of gambling as a modern rendition. Not bothering with bets, Seungyoun only buys the ticket, annoyed with the fact that his brother doesn’t cover the cost of these spendings. 

Carefully selected breeds of horses and their trusted jockeys are preparing for the start. The audience cheers for their favorites. The announcer, pretending to be excited for another thousand-something race in his announcing career, shouts from the speaker: “ _The horses are lining up! Keep your eye on the favorites! May there be luck with the gamblers!_ ”

“ _Race start!_ ”

Here, begins the mass madness of a crowd, shouting their throats off to somehow find a way to cheer the racing horses. It’s not like it will help, but it is rather a demonstration of their individual choice for today’s winner. The audience has its own competition, trying to hit the bank with their bets, while doing nothing when, at the same time, horses run themselves into exhaustion. 

Seungyoun is patiently waiting for the agent to approach him. Although he doesn’t notice the man himself, but he is sure, Wooseok sees him. Picking out the head of the foe clan from the crowd has the same rate of success — zero. Seungyoun couldn’t tell anyone apart from such a large distance and size of the stadium. 

"Every Wednesday and Friday,” Seungyoun hears the whisper behind him, right into his ear. It could have startled him if Wooseok wasn’t that gentle in his approach. “The don comes here to watch the horse race and bet on his favorite horse Konev. This Friday is the day.”

The announcer interrupts, “ _Athena is now ahead of the race! Who will be competitive enough to humble her and take the lead?! Is it your favorite? Oh! Red Moon is trying to catch up!_ ”

“You will sit right across the clan’s sector,” Wooseok points out at the dots of people faraway. “Then you will pull a gun, in this crowd you won't be noticeable. Don't miss. If you miss — it’ll be over for both of us."

"Miss? Do you think I have the eyes of a hawk? How do I hit someone from this distance?!” Seungyoun turns back, facing Wooseok and his displeased reaction, caused by the way Seungyoun shouted such exposing evidence into the crowd.

"Don't yell! If this requires you to have those eyes, then so be it. Don't you dare to miss the shot."

“I see,” is everything Seungyoun is able to say. If this operation fails, the consequences will be more than he would like to imagine. Or rather, he doesn’t want to imagine them at all.

“You will have to do it with a pistol, because the venue security won’t let you go inside with a larger weapon. And if you come any closer to the don, bodyguards might notice you. Don’t push your luck.”

“Don’t push your luck?! You’re saying to shot someone with a pistol from this distance? If this doesn’t fully depend on luck?”  
  
“ _Hey! Konev makes a strike! Moving with the speed of lightning! Ulysses starts to catch up too! Wow! What a race!_ ”

"Can we… meet again today?" with hesitation in his voice, Seungyoun makes a sudden proposition after a minute of pause in their conversation.

"Why…?"

"I have questions."

"I… I don't think we should do this…"

"Well, then… as your superior, I order you to meet with me.”

With how much his clan and Seungyoun’s family means to Wooseok, he couldn’t reject an order. Something ingrained inside told him that he shouldn’t. Seungyoun isn’t surprised by how much the mention of order alone can make Wooseok feel obliged to accept this invitation. In fact, Seungyoun felt a bit of sadness with how much it can control Wooseok’s life and choices. Besides, Seungyoun considered himself not worthy and important enough to be dictating orders to someone as independent and professional as Wooseok.

“ _Unbelievable! The winner of the race is Stella Artois of Loxley! The last second was detrimental… absolutely phenomenal... fantastic race… what an event……....._ ”

In the evening, they meet at the old casino, with hardly any traffic of customers. Rather, it is a lonely place, serving clients with cheap wine, but neither Wooseok, nor Seungyoun are particularly picky.

"So, is it fun betraying everyone and leaking information?"

"Fun? It is my duty. And I'm not betraying anyone, I'm only complying with my order — being an agent in the enemy’s rear."

"For five years?"

"For five years."

"Do you think our clan cares for you in the slightest?" Seungyoun decides to risk with this conversation. He didn’t like Wooseok’s way of living and his unshaken obeying to such a futile organization. 

"They do."

"Well, as far as the puppets go, I guess they do care. They are using you and you have no objection. That’s depressing."

Wooseok bites his lip, he doesn’t like this conversation. Because it feels revealing, and at the same time ignorant of his reasons. Wooseok knows that if he thinks about those words for too long, it could open a can of worms. And that’s the last thing he needs right now. 

"So, are we here to talk about me?"

"Mostly… yes."

"Then I'm leaving if that's your goal."

"Are you this cold with everyone?" Seungyoun tries to lead the conversation into another course.

"Obviously. I can’t be an agent if I get emotionally attached here to someone."

"So no friends for five years? That must be lonely." 

"Must be,” Wooseok finishes his glass of wine at once.

“How about lovers? Maybe some flings on the side?”

“Flings? Huh? I don’t have time for that.”

“Woah, is that some vow of chastity to the mafia?” Seungyoun tries to hide his smile. “You’re serious about this mafia stuff, don’t you?”

“Of course, I am. And when I saw you in that bar, I lost it! If someone other would have seen you, it could have been a fall of everything. Did you want to die ahead of time? What were you thinking?!”

“Ahead of time? Hm, how do you know that I’ll fake my death?” Seungyoun squints his eyes, wondering how this information could already be leaked out. 

“Um… yeah, I was informed.”

“I swear, all this stuff is so tiring. Isn’t fun.”

“You guess! Think it was fun for me to be ordered around by some greasy dons? That it was fun to build trust with an enemy? It’s not fun at all, so don’t question me, thinking it some kind of a game.”

“Then why won’t you quit?”

“I owe your family a lot, I promised to obey their every order.”

“I think that’s the wrong motto in life. You’re better than this.”

“Don’t talk about something you don’t know… I’m sick of it. I’m leaving,” without hesitation, Wooseok takes his jacket and heads to the exit, after leaving a tip to the waiter.

“That’s one short temper,” Seungyoun says to himself, a bit of sorrow in his voice.

Nobody knows, if it's the alcohol that overtook his mind at night, or is it something else entirely, because you can not only be drunk from the alcohol, if you imply allegorical sense. But Seungyoun is sure, it wasn’t the result of wine alone when he stepped into the telephone booth and dialed the number of the foe’s headquarters, which Wooseok discreetly told him not a long ago.

“ _Sorry, the don is not accepting the calls now. Call later or…_ ”

“Hello, it’s me, Seungyoun. Sorry for— ”

“ _You know it’s dangerous to call like that?_ ” Wooseok lowers his voice. 

“I know, I just wanted… to meet you again.”

“ _For what?_ ”

“Well, frankly, I’m scared a bit.”

“ _Hm… I understand._ ”

“Also, I like talking to you.”

“ _How so? I never was friendly to you._ ”

“At least, you are worried about me... I think. I have this impression.”

“ _Well, of course. You’re part of the clan’s main family._ ”

“Stop about the clan… Let’s just meet. Tomorrow...”

Although the telephone call was short, it left an uneasy feeling in Wooseok. The feeling of overstepping the boundaries. And they will be overstepped, which will lead to something neither he, nor Seungyoun would expect. 

His hand is still holding the phone handle, monotonous shallow beeps are audible from the dynamic. Something is crashing. Before, it was always clear for Wooseok — who is a friend and who is a target, but now… Wooseok doesn’t know, where ends one and starts another. 

“Wooseok. Don is calling for you,” he hears from the hallway. Time to report the proceedings of the mission.

Wooseok always dreaded entering into the don's cabinet. The interior is an example of a particularly bad taste, done in an acid bright colors of pink to signify the don’s childish love for cakes. 

“Is everything going as planned?” the don speaks, hiding his intoxication from the whiskey and trying to get himself together.

“Yes, sir.”

“Is he suspecting anything?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Everything is organized as if it were a real thing, he shouldn’t suspect this at all. Heh-he… Inform his brother that everything is going as expected. Do you have any questions?”

“Do I need to kill him myself?”

“Not necessarily. I’m not _**that**_ cruel. That’s all?”

Wooseok nods. At this moment, he feels like a definition of the word “ _betrayal”_. Like the living epitome of this word. That’s the job of his life. And not a change on the horizon. For a long time now, Wooseok didn't consider himself filthy and deceitful for living that way, that sounded like a compliment to him. In moments like this — he considered himself lower than that. 

The only silver lining there was is that he complied with the promise he gave to his clan. But now, even keeping it — seems like a deception. Betrayal surrounded him from every corner, blocking any exits and escape routes.

“Good evening, sir,” Wooseok dials the number of Seungyoun’s brother.

“ _Is everything going well?_ ”

“Absolutely.”

“ _Say, Wooseok, would you do one more task for me?_ ’

“...yes, sir.”

“ _You will be the sole person responsible for it. It’s out of our agreement with the foe clan._ ”

“Tell me the details.”

“ _After Seungyoun is confirmed to be eliminated, the head of the foe clan will move to his headquarters after the race, right?_ ”

“Yes, he is usually here after the races.”

“ _That’s when we will strike. Plant a time bomb, which will fire sometime in the afternoon. You understand me?_ ”

“I… understand…”

“ _The weapon will come in a package as a mail to your house in this town. Don’t miss the chance. You need to find the time when the don will be away, so you could plant it. This childish fool never even took any hints that our clan doesn’t care about any alliances with him. They think they’re important enough. Hah-ha, think again! This is a break of peace. This way we will eliminate anything that can disrupt the work of clan!_ ”

“But what if… Seungyoun succeeds in his assassination? 

“ _Stop with the fairytales. Also, the blame will fall on Seungyoun, as the one who had the goal of eliminating the don. This should cover you up_.”

The night after the call, Wooseok won’t be able to sleep. The myriads of possible solutions, scenarios and what-ifs will flow through his head. It will be the only time, when he realizes that following every order will cause him to betray himself and his true intentions. He needs to pick a side. But the choice isn’t limited to two. The third-party — Seungyoun — is also included in this crucial choice.

**Thursday**

Same casino, at the same time as yesterday. The same small amount of customers and the same cheap wine. But what isn’t the same anymore — is the atmosphere between Seungyoun and Wooseok. It’s hard to notice or find, but something has changed.

“You know, I’m scared too,” Wooseok confesses.

“Really? Couldn’t guess, you keep such a cold-hearted look.”

“It works as a defense.”

“Did I broke it?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

After a while, Seungyoun notices how the themes of their conversation grow sensitive and personal. It’s something he never expected to find in this business-only relationship. But he accounts, the change didn’t necessary occurred in him, the _change_ occurred in Wooseok.

Taking an opportunity, Seungyoun asks the question, the answer to which he is more than eager to know. “So what did my family do to you? Why do you owe them so much?”

“They accepted me as a little boy. I was raised by a maid and was serving at your father’s headquarters until he retired. Your family gave me a roof under my head and means to live. And a reason to keep finding those means.”

“My father’s headquarters? I came around there sometimes, didn’t I?”

“You did. I don’t think you remember me, you weren’t too much into the mafia’s life back then.”

“But you do… remember me?”

“Yeah, you used to throw stones into the windows from the backyard when we were little. You broke the window of my room. Since then, I knew — you were an asshole,” the last statement receives laugher from both directions.

“I thought you will tell me a sob story about how you had a crush on me since childhood.”

“Huh, you can only dream.”

Seungyoun looks into Wooseok’s eyes, with a tender smile on his face. “Hey, is there a reason you’re so talkative with me today?”

“Yes, I will tell you in the morning.”

“We will be together in the _morning_?”

“Uh… we not…?”

The hotel room turns out to be on the expensive side. But the same as with wine — Wooseok and Seungyoun aren’t picky. At the least, they didn’t need to appreciate the sightings of the room — that is far from their goal. 

“Please, turn the lights off. This lamp is shining right into my eyes.”

“Then how am I supposed to see what I’m doing?”

“What are you talking about? It’s not science.”

“It’s pretty much science… in some way.”

“Yeah, I get it… physics. Penetrative power. Now turn the lights off.”

Truth is: no lamp shined into Wooseok’s eyes. He was just too flustered, too bashful to be that exposed. That vulnerable. The same could be said about Seungyoun, who acted in an unnatural for him awkward manner. 

“Oh, wait, I need to take off the ring from my fake marriage, which never happened. Or it feels like I’m cheating.”

“Are you trying to make me laugh? I thought we were occupied with something other.”

“You’re so impatient.”

Seungyoun is gentle with the task of taking off Wooseok’s clothes. The past coldness and ice walls between them are slowly, but surely, melting. One can say, it’s just a matter of attraction and desire, and how many times it is being mistaken for something more, but neither Wooseok, nor Seungyoun want to indulge in such semantics at this time. Fortunately, they will discover the nature of their relationship in less than twenty-four hours, in the evening on Friday. 

But now, there’s a need to go back into the moment — into the present, where Seungyoun and Wooseok are trying to find the perfect pace for their kisses, because at times someone slows down, while the other tries to pick up the speed. Then, repeat the same sequence over and over. But they don’t mind the struggle, in some way — it’s entertaining.

Soon enough, they move further. As further as when Wooseok’s thighs touch Seungyoun’s sides. At this point, if you ask them how much is five times five — they wouldn’t answer correctly, because their minds are only focused on each other. On every moment between them, every possible sensation, every moan, breath and, of course, every lewd sound of splashing lube and slapping skin.

The rhythm of the thrusts is in constant change. From quiet to quick, almost leaving both of them at the brink of exhaustion, just to stop at the right moment to prolong the intercourse.

“Do... you… enjoy?” Wooseok asks while pausing and catching breath after the strong thrusts. His eyes are getting teary from the pleasure, from all the sensations mixed together.

“I do…” for Seungyoun, it feels tight and wet, as he pushes deeper into Wooseok’s walls, making sure to hit the sensitive spot. “And you...?”

“Ha… yes,” Wooseok is close to the climax as the warm feeling appears in his lower abdomen, ready to wave his body with pleasure. After that will follow the aftermath of such strong stimuli on his body, overstimulation leaves him feeling drain. 

And while his body is normalizing its senses and the come slides down his stomach and thighs, Wooseok wonders, if this night means to Seungyoun just as much as it to him? 

But there is also another problem, Wooseok couldn’t pinpoint what he feels exactly or, maybe, he is scared to name it. 

But one thing in which Wooseok is certain — is that he wishes for the morning to never fall on this town, so they could enjoy this night forever.

Warmth. Intimacy. An overwhelming sense of pleasure. Sweat. Heartfelt moments. All of these are the results of their desire, fulfilled on this night session.

**Friday. Morning**

“Run away, Seungyoun. While you still have time.”

“What? Why would I?” still sleepy, Seungyoun tries to comprehend the situation.

“They’ll kill you.”

“Because I will miss the shot?”

“You will miss it either way, it’s impossible for you to cover such a distance.”

“I will try.”

“Seungyoun, wake up! This operation was impossible from the very start. It was made, so the clans could dispose of you,” growing desperate and fearful as the time is approaching, Wooseok explains again. “Your brother thinks your retirement talk is a bluff and you want to be the next head of the clan.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“The clans have a treaty about ending the dispute and working together. But, of course, nobody told you. Reason to kill you in an answer for a failed assassination attempt looks good enough for the heads of the clans, so no other dons under their command would question how justifiable it is, the clan's heads authority already crumbles as it is. It’s a fraud, Seungyoun.”

For some time, Seungyoun doesn’t say anything. in his mind, he blames himself for being this naive, while dealing with something as dishonest as the world of crime.

“Let’s imagine, I will run away. What will happen to you?”

“I will manage.”

“You will manage, you say. So, you want to die instead of me for failing your own secret operation because I didn’t show up?”

“I’m okay with that. After all, you are part of the family, to which I deeply responsible. I will pay with my sacrif—”

“I don’t deserve your sacrifice,” Seungyoun interrupts. In a hurry, he searches for his clothes. 

“Seungyoun, promise me you won’t go to the venue today. You need to escape!”

Seungyoun grabs his things and stops at the entrance. He can’t promise something like that. 

“Please, don’t be silent. Promise me,” the last plead didn’t have any success either. Seungyoun just leaves, with his intentions clear. 

“Dammit!” Wooseok shouts from his helplessness and despair.

It’s time for him to take drastic measures.

  
**Friday. Afternoon**

Wooseok’s eyes are fixed on the venue’s entrance. He looks over the audience for the dozen time. “ _Please, don’t go here_ ”, “ _Please, don’t go_ ,” Wooseok keeps begging. 

The stadium isn’t so lively today, so you could see and notice almost everyone. People aren’t rushing and are making their bets with caution. But Wooseok didn’t register his surroundings that much: neither the freezing wind, neither the not-so-bright clouds, telling about the forthcoming rain, neither about the mafia troop, involved in their chit-chat about the beer's prices and new roads to transport the products.

In the unfortunate, or otherwise fortunate, turn of events, depending which personal opinion to take into account, — Seungyoun is here. He is here with a determination to spare Wooseok’s life and, at least, let one of them succeed on their mission.

When he notices the familiar figure, Wooseok holds his breath, his pupils grow wide and the heartbeat becomes more frequent. 

So be it, he decides. He got another plan ready. No matter what, Seungyoun will be safe from the mafia plot. And it will took only five seconds.

_00:00:00_

Chilling wind.

Gun in the air. 

Target fixed. 

“ _Race start!_ ”

Shot.

Thunder-like sound.

Mass panic.

The mission is complete.

The head of the clan is eliminated.

_00:00:05_

Seungyoun throws his gun on the ground, he can’t hold it anymore. Power is derived from him. The vision is blurry and all movements felt like in slow-motion. The shock takes over him.

Seungyoun is not the author of the shot. He is not the one, who pulled the trigger.

Wooseok did. Just in time. Just a second before Seungyoun would fire. 

Wooseok screams, trying to break away from the don’s bodyguards, from his own colleagues. The white blouse, which the don wore to this race, is covered in red. Wooseok didn’t miss.

The first Seungyoun’s reaction is to run to Wooseok and defend him. That’s what he is supposed to do, until he is met by bullets from guards in return. 

Wooseok was reckless. But his plan worked, Seungyoun didn’t shoot. He was forced to stop by Wooseok’s sudden move. He is saved, and that means — Wooseok will be the one to receive the repercussions. He didn’t mind the punishment, it is must be done with. After all, he killed one of the most important figures in the criminal underworld. 

His lip is bleeding. A few ribs must be broken. The nose is stuffed with blood. He can barely stand. A flashing thought appears un his mind: he didn’t want to be seen this way in front of Seungyoun. 

His colleagues told him, they will come soon. They didn’t get enough information out of him yet, but they made sure he couldn’t walk or escape. But it is foolish of them, because Wooseok has enough stamina to withstand any beating and keep his secret agent occupation from being revealed. 

It is hard for Wooseok to comprehend what is happening around him, except for the tick of an old clock. He doesn’t account for it, but Wooseok is confident that he passed out a few times. In this haze, which wrapped his consciousness, he hears the sound of breaking glass. This isn’t real. Not happening. Absolutely absurd that Seungyoun is standing here, in this dark room, on a carpet, which is stained with Wooseok’s blood. 

“Are... you joking?”

“Um… I thought you’ll be happy to see me.”

“You are still... breaking windows after all this… time?” Wooseok smiles, although it is painful for him. “Uh.. Where are... the guards?”

“I don’t know. Guess on the way to my brother or searching for me. They didn’t leave much security with you.”

“I’m worthless to them this much, huh?” it is more-or-less an offense to Wooseok’s pride that after all these years, his colleagues didn’t think he is important enough to use resources on him.

Unfortunately, the sound of a shuttering window is sure to be noticed.

“Put him down! I will fire!”

With shaking hands, the guard moves his pistol from Wooseok to Seungyoun, and then again, in a short period of time. He isn’t prepared for this encounter. 

“This is the end of you! Choose, who will be first!” he shouts, trying to hide the nervousness. But it’s audible in his voice.

“Can… I have a last wish? Just one minute to talk with Seungyoun?” Wooseok takes initiative, being attentive to how harmless the guard actually is. But if the emotions overtake him, the accidental shot can cost a life. Wooseok looks at the clock, there is no time to be wasted.

“Last wish? Okay, whatever. One minute. I will give it out of respect that you were my past colleague.”

Wooseok says in a whisper, gathering all his remaining might together, “Seungyoun… when you hear a loud sound… grab me and run.”

“What are you talking abou—”

With the great amount of luck, the room, where Wooseok was locked, is located Wooseok under the clan’s head office. The time is the afternoon. The bomb’s detonation launches.

Explosion.

The roof cracks from the heavy wave. The loud tingling in their ears. The dust fills the room, which causes the guard to cover his mouth and eyes. 

Seungyoun adjusts quickly, not losing precious time. With closed eyes, Wooseok feels how Seungyoun lifts him in his arms. Wooseok smells his cologne, which he didn’t get enough of last night. He hears Seungyoun’s steps and heavy breathing. 

**Friday. Late afternoon**

Wooseok regains his consciousness at the back of the car, not feeling good in the slightest, although his wounds were tended to. 

On a driver’s seat — Seungyoun, being focused on the road. In a low volume, the radio plays an annoying song, where the chorus repeats over and over again.

“Where are we going…?” Wooseok rubs his eyes.

“We’re driving into the dawn.”

“But it’s still hours away.”

“Well, it will come. Sooner or later.”

“It won’t come sooner or later, it will come on time. It’s the freaking dawn.”

“Woah, you have enough energy to argue with me.”

Seungyoun considered this petty fight as a good indication of Wooseok’s conditions becoming better. With care, Seungyoun treated Wooseok’s injuries, fearing not to cause any discomfort.

Seungyoun won’t mention that he noticed the fake marriage ring, which he left back at the hotel, on Wooseok’s finger. Such sentimentality surprised him. This Wooseok’s gesture was something profound, so Seungyoun decides to leave it unspoken. And to repay Wooseok with everything he owes. Now the tables have turned. Wooseok isn’t the one in debt now.

“What do you want to drink?” Seungyoun asks, before making a stop at the gas station’s store.

“Water.”

Upon returning, Seungyoun finds Wooseok in a rather saddening state. As the latter realizes the aftermath of today’s events. For Wooseok, everything is now collapsing.

“It’s all over, right? Mafia, allies, enemies? I have nothing now?” Wooseok breaks it all down in simple words. But tears don’t fall down his face, he doesn’t have enough strength for that.

“It’s not all over, it’s beginning of living an honest life,” Seungyoun proposes a bottle of water. He doesn’t know what else to say. He feels incompetent in giving advice to someone, who cherished this same thing that Seungyoun loathed from as long as he could remember.

But it was enough. Wooseok smiles. Maybe, the doors of living such life are closed to him, but, perhaps, Seungyoun is able to maintain one. It will be enough, for now.

Because they are _together_.

“They were right.”

“What?”

“Mafia is indeed not a place for pretty boys.”

“Oh, shut up!” Wooseok shouts, threatening to spill the water on Seungyoun.

**Friday. Evening**

The car stops in the middle of nowhere. They just want to breathe some fresh air, as being in an auto for so many hours was becoming nauseating. 

Seungyoun and Wooseok sit on the ground, the sight in front of them consists of endless prairies, reaching to the horizon. No clouds in the sky. No sounds, except the singing of birds somewhere far. The smell of wildflowers.

Wooseok stops the silence, “I think I actually had a crush on you since childhood.”

“What…”

“It definitely saved you. Would I risk my life for you otherwise?”

“Well, I risked my life for you without any childhood crush. The one I have right now was enough.”

This fleeting moment of confession. Devotion. Affection. Everything warm, heated and tender blends together. It is calm. It is sweet and refreshing. Young, youthful love, still at its start. But it promises to flourish. To become courageous, brave and dedicated.


End file.
